The story goes that Jesus is brought before Pilate under charges of leading the Jewish people astray and (basically) fomenting rebellion against the empire. As Pilate examines Jesus, he quickly comes to the conclusion that he won't be able to make any of the charges stick under Roman law, and offers to release Jesus three times (compare to Peter's thrice denial of Jesus). Enter to laos, the "nameless mob" (see Joel Green's commentary on Luke), who up to this point have been Jesus' ardent supporters, but now show a nasty, fickle side: they turn against Jesus now, demanding the sentence of death for Jesus and the release of a notorious rebel and murderer, Barabbas. Pilate, in a show of weakness that typified his reign as governor, relents and does as they ask.
Aside from the rather obvious literary irony, I think Christianity has often made this passage about the injustice of the trade; the innocent dies and the guilty goes free. We've read the passage as a mere reinforcement of the fact that Jesus' death was unjust and undeserved. Yes, that's true. Here's the obvious thing though, the thing that made me laugh out loud at 6:15am:
We are all Barabbas.
We are all guilty, released in trade for the death of the Messiah.
We are all Barabbas.
We are not just people guilty of bad behavior; we are lestai, rebels and brigands just like Barabbas, convicted of insurrection against our just and rightful Lord, for which only one penalty has ever been appropriate.
We are all Barabbas.
We are the beneficiaries of our Lord's unfair, irrational love, of a verdict that seems unjust: "You are guilty; you may go." Because Jesus walked the road to Golgotha, we walk the road home.
This is the blessed exchange, wherein Jesus received the sentence we deserved and we received the sentence he deserved. It is the fulfillment of Isaiah 53.5:
"But he was wounded for our transgressions,
crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the punishment that made us whole,
and by his bruises we are healed."
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